


Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Brother's Wife

by DKNC



Series: Love, Unexpected [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 10:57:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/925560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DKNC/pseuds/DKNC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brandon Stark was completely over Catelyn Tully. And he was happy for his brother. He really was. So, why did he find himself thinking more and more about Cat as the day of her wedding to Ned drew closer?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Brother's Wife

“Jesus Christ!”

Brandon Stark surveyed the chaos as he entered the large parlor. It appeared that some upscale department store had vomited its entire fine china section into the room as every table and most of the available floor space was covered with plates, goblets, vases, silverware, and any number of fancy looking items that he couldn’t begin to guess the names or purposes for. The bright auburn hair of his former lover, future sister-in-law popped up from behind one of those tables at his exclamation. “Oh. Hi, Brandon.” She sounded vaguely disappointed. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you, too, Red. My family lives here, remember?”

“But it’s . . .” She looked down at her watch as she stood up from where she’d apparently been sitting on the floor. “eleven-thirty on a Tuesday morning. Don’t you have a job?”

“Don’t you?” he countered with a laugh. “I had a meeting with some people on this side of town so I decided to come see if I could get Old Nan to make me lunch.”

Catelyn shook her head. “That woman is too good to all of you. She should have retired years ago, you know.”

“Yep,” said Brandon, absently picking up one of about a dozen tiny silver forks lying in a group on the table beside him. “But she’s been with us ever since Mom died. As long as we don’t tell her we’ve grown up, I think she’ll just keep taking care of us all until she’s pushing up daisies herself.” He looked at the floor where she’d been sitting and saw a huge notebook and a stack of cards and envelopes. Waving his arm at the sea of lovely, useless items surrounding them, he asked her, “What is all this shit? Is my father opening a souvenir shop in here?”

She made a face. “Wedding gifts. Between our fathers, it appears that everyone in the free world feels compelled to send us something.”

Brandon laughed. Catelyn’s father was the number two man in the state department, and his own was the CEO of one of the most successful corporations in the country. His brother’s wedding was being played for all it was worth by both men. “Which of them has been telling their friends you and Ned already need baby gifts?”

“What?”

He held up the tiny fork, and she laughed. “That’s a cocktail fork, Brandon. Put it back where you found it.”

“What’s it for?”

“It’s for . . .God, I don’t even know! I don’t know what half this stuff is for! We had to register for about a million items to accommodate all these people our fathers sent announcements to, and Ned and I basically just sat there nodding like idiots while this woman spent four hours showing us pictures and telling us what we needed.” She looked so frustrated and overwhelmed that Brandon had a sudden urge to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right. _Stifle that, pal,_ he warned himself.

He laughed instead. “What the hell are you going to do with it all, Red?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “Well, first I’m going to write several thousand thank you notes, and then I suppose we’ll . . .have a garage sale? Yes, that’s it. A really fancy garage sale . . .or maybe an auction. I certainly don’t have any use for this stuff. I mean, does anybody really use this kind of stuff anymore?”

Brandon flipped the tiny fork into the air. “Outside of Buckingham Palace? I doubt it.”

“Put the fork back where you found it, Brandon,” she repeated, “Go find Nan, get your lunch, and leave me to catalog this junk and write heartfelt notes of gratitude in peace.” She turned around and bent down to retrieve her notebook, giving him an excellent view of the way her very fine ass filled out her blue jeans just perfectly.

 _Cat probably has the finest ass of any girl I’ve ever had,_ he thought, and found himself wondering why he’d been compelled to chase so many others when he’d had that one any time he wanted it.

“Quit staring at my ass.”

“What? I wasn’t . . .”

She stood up again and rolled her eyes at him. “Brandon,” she said warningly. Then her voice turned wistful. “If I had half a brain, I’d have agreed to run off and get married secretly like Ned wanted to do.”

“And our fathers would have killed you both.”

She sighed. “Which is what I told him. That’s why we agreed to put ourselves through this. But they’ve turned it into an even bigger production than I’d ever dreamed. Fifteen bridesmaids, Brandon! Fifteen!! I barely know half of them, and it’s my wedding!”

Brandon laughed out loud. “Well, I don’t think Ned’s ever spoken to half the groomsmen, so you’re ahead of him there. Don’t sweat it, Cat. You’ll look sexy, my brother will look frozen, and all the diplomats and millionaires will eat, drink, and dance until they pass out.”

“You’d better not.”

“Better not what?”

“Drink until you pass out. Brandon, there will be photographers there, you know. And we both know what you’re like when you drink too much. The whole world knows we were once engaged, and I’d rather not have to look at pictures of you leering at me or read about you telling the guests how you had me first.”

She caught her lower lip in her teeth and chewed on it the way she always did when she thought about anything that troubled her. He’d always found that little gesture sexy and had to stop himself from bending to put his own lips to hers and using his tongue to open that gorgeous mouth. She’d resist at first and then part her lips and allow her teeth to catch his lips gently instead. He felt his cock twitch against his boxers as he thought about it. _Jesus, Stark! What the fuck is wrong with you?_

She caught him staring at her and flushed slightly. “Have you asked anyone to be your date yet?” she asked.

He looked down and tried to remove the image of his lips crushed against hers from his mind before he answered. “Well, since I’m in the wedding, anybody I ask would have sit alone, and I’m not officially dating anyone at the moment . . .”

She rolled her eyes. “Brandon, you could ask any one of a thousand girls and they’d be happy to come and sit by themselves in the church for you. Poor deluded things. And if you bring a date, you’ll make it much harder for the idiot reporters to write drivel about you spending the evening pining after me. Perhaps I’m selfish, but I want my wedding to be about Ned and me.”

 _Pining after her? Is that what she honestly thinks?_ “Okay. I’m sure Barbrey would be happy to come with me. I’ll give her a call.”

The anger that flashed in Catelyn’s eyes was real then. “Brandon Stark, if you bring Barbrey Ryswell to my wedding, I swear to God I will murder you.”

 _Looks like I can still make you angry, Cat._ He knew probably shouldn’t take as much satisfaction in that as he did. “Ah, who’s pining now? After all this time, you still care what I do, Red.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you do! I just refuse to have that tramp at my wedding, and you are a grade A fucking asshole for even mentioning her name to me. I wouldn’t allow you at the goddamn wedding if you weren’t Ned’s brother!”

 _She’s angry, all right,_ Brandon thought. _She’s swearing._

“What tramp?” asked a new voice from the doorway. “And what did you do to Cat to make her use the F word, Brandon?

Brandon’s younger sister walked into the room, an amused smile on her face. She was wearing ripped jeans and a black t-shirt with the inexplicable word Dragonspawn written across it in red. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore no make-up.

“Ask Cat,” he said. “She’s the one who seems overly concerned with what I do.”

“He’s being an ass, isn’t he?” Lyanna asked, looking at Catelyn. Turning back to Brandon, she said, “And with you, brother dear, it’s generally more a matter of whom you do rather than what you do that causes anyone concern.”

Catelyn actually laughed at that, and Brandon found himself irrationally angry at both women in spite of the fact that he’d been intentionally needling the redhead just a moment before. “Really, little sister?” he said rather nastily. “It seems to me that I’m not the person in this room who’s done more than one member of her own wedding party.”

“You son of a bitch.” Catelyn’s voice was low and threatening as she stepped toward him, and Brandon was quite certain she would have slapped him had Lyanna not grabbed her into a hug.

“Well, I don’t care if Cat’s fucked you, Ned, AND Ben, as long as I get to keep her for a sister.” She looked at Cat then with one of her goofy grins that made her look about fifteen rather than twenty-two.

Brandon watched the angry set of Catelyn’s jaw relax just marginally. “Uh, thanks Lya, I guess?” She actually smiled a little then. “Although, for the record, I have never dated Benjen.”

Lyanna laughed and hugged Catelyn tighter, surprising her by planting kisses on both her cheeks. “Date him now, if you like! Do anything you like, oh best almost-sister on the planet!”

Now Cat looked as confused as Brandon felt. Lyanna had always liked Catelyn well enough, but this was way over the top. “What . . .” Catelyn started.

Lyanna let go of her and pulled at her black t-shirt. “Dragonspawn!” she squealed. “You did it!”

“Oh. Yes,” Catelyn said, laughing. “Who told you?”

“Ned. He’s out in the hall. His cell phone rang three times just since he came in the door, and he said he couldn’t ignore the last one.”

“Ned’s here?” The obvious joy on Cat’s face made Brandon feel vaguely guilty both about the way he’d wanted her and the way he’d purposely tried to piss her off.

“Yeah, he’ll be in here when he gets rid of whoever’s on the phone. But is he right? Dragonspawn is really playing?”

“They most certainly are,” Catelyn told her.

Lyanna grabbed her and squealed again, and Brandon began to wonder if perhaps his sister wasn’t actually still fifteen after all.

“Would someone tell me what the hell Dragonspawn is?” he demanded.

Catelyn shook her head at him as if appalled by his ignorance. “Only the most popular new band out there. They’re playing at our reception.”

“Never heard of them,” Brandon said grumpily.

“Of course you have,” Lyanna insisted. “The lead singer is Rhaegar Targaryen. You know that song--Fire and Blood--it’s only on the radio every five minutes.”

Something clicked then. “Oh. That guy who’s supposed to be some kind of prince or something?”

Catelyn laughed. “Actually he’s one of the last descendants of the royal family of some defunct little European principality somewhere. I don’t think Rhaegar much cares about it, but his father is all about his title and the honor due his station, blah, blah, blah . . . .Runs around in diplomatic circles as if he actually ruled something. So . . .I had Daddy offer him a first class invite to the wedding, provided his son’s band would play of course.” When Brandon rolled his eyes, she said, “What? If our fathers are using my wedding for political and economic maneuvering, surely I can use it to get some good live music! Anyway, Daddy set up the invite, and your father paid the band’s booking fee, so yes, Lya, Dragonspawn--which never plays private events--is playing at our reception.”

“I think I do know that song, Fire and Blood,” Brandon said. “Pretty hard rock for a reception, isn’t it? Do they play anything we can actually dance to?”

“God, Brandon! You are so old!” Lyanna said. “They play all kinds of stuff. Actually, their ballads are the best. I swear Rhaegar’s voice actually makes me cry. That’s how amazing he is.”

“He is very good,” Catelyn agreed. “And we’ll have a DJ playing more traditional wedding reception stuff between the band’s sets.”

“Do you think I can meet him?” Lyanna asked Catelyn.

Catelyn laughed. “Of course. He seemed quite nice on the phone when I called about the arrangements. He and his wife both. Elia, I think her name was. She helps manage the band. She isn’t able to come with him, though. Apparently, they’re expecting, and she’s having a bit of a hard time of it, poor thing. She’s not allowed to fly.”

“Well, there you go then, Lya,” Brandon said with a smirk. “Pregnant wife has to stay home. Lonely singer out on the road. Looks like you’ve got a clear shot!”

Brandon knew well enough that his younger sister was no blushing virgin. Lyanna had a lot more in common with him than with Ned or Ben, and she usually had no problem with raunchy talk or inappropriate insinuations. Now, however, her grey eyes darkened. “I am not you, Brandon,” she said coldly. “Just because you’d happily fuck your brother’s bride doesn’t mean I take what doesn’t belong to me.”

Of course, Ned chose that precise moment to walk in. “What the hell is going on in here?” he said, looking from Lya to Brandon and finally to Cat.

Catelyn shook her head and sighed. “Your brother is being an asshole, and your sister and I are quite over it. In other words, nothing unusual.” She walked to the doorway then, and tiptoed up to kiss Ned’s bearded cheek. “What are you doing here?”

Ned stood there without moving, glaring at Brandon.

“She asked me the same question when I walked in,” Brandon said to him. “Apparently, she’s forgotten she’s the one who’s never actually lived here.”

“What?” Ned said in some confusion. Then he turned to Catelyn, “Oh. I knew you were stuck here in wedding gift hell, so I went in early today in order to take a long enough break to come rescue you for lunch. What has he been saying to you?”

“Nothing, Ned. Nothing really, my love.” She reached up and put a hand on Ned’s face bringing his eyes to look only at her. “You told me yourself that Brandon sometimes likes to talk simply to hear the sound of his own voice. It’s nothing more than that.”

“Hey,” Brandon said, not certain whether he was more annoyed at the fact that they talked about him as if he weren’t there or by the fact that watching Catelyn touch his brother’s face like that bothered him. “I am standing right here, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” Ned said quietly. “I’m trying to ignore that fact until I feel more like talking to you and less like hitting you. Why do you have make things so difficult, Brandon?”

“Why do you have to assume I’m at fault?”

“Are you?” Ned asked the question while looking directly at him, and Brandon had to work at not flinching.

“Probably,” he said finally. “Yeah. I was just . . .I’m sorry, Red,” he said, moving his gaze to where she stood beside Ned. “And I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman at the wedding. I won’t drink too much, or talk too much, or bang any of your bridesmaids on the cake table.” He grinned. “Although those two that were over here with Lya the other night were pretty hot.”

She smiled at him just slightly. “Well, there are fifteen of them. Thirteen as far as you’re concerned, I suppose, because Lya’s your sister and you WILL stay the hell away from Lysa. As long as you keep it off the cake table and out of the tabloids, I suppose you can do what you like with any of the rest of them.”

Ned looked stunned, and Lya burst into laughter. Brandon just grinned at the smart, sexy-as-hell girl he had once called his and tried not to resent the fact that in less than two weeks she’d be married to his brother. He had no one to blame but himself. And he knew the two of them loved each other. Shit, anybody who looked at them together for more than two minutes knew that. _It’s kind of sickening, really,_ he told himself. _I don’t want that._ He looked at the way Ned’s arm had gone around her waist almost of its own accord and the way she just naturally leaned into him. _They’ll be just like that when they’re sixty,_ he thought suddenly. _That’s not for me._

“Go on, you two, and hold hands and make puppy eyes at each other over lunch before old man Arryn calls Ned again and orders him back to the office,” he said.

“Lya, do you want to come?” Ned asked their sister, and Brandon supposed he probably shouldn’t ask why he wasn’t included in the invitation.

“No way,” she said, speaking for the first time since Ned had come into the room. “I love you guys and all, but when you’re together, you’re not exactly great company for anyone else right now. I’ll just stay here and tell Brandon some more about how big an asshole he is.”

Catelyn laughed, and Ned said, “Sounds like a plan.”

“Hey!” Brandon protested, but he wasn’t really angry at anyone anymore, with the possible exception of himself.

When Ned and Catelyn were almost out the door, she turned and looked over her shoulder. “Oh, Brandon,” she said casually, “About the bridesmaids. If you pull a stunt like you did with those twins at my twenty-first birthday party, you will take over sole title of having screwed the most members of this wedding party, so you might want to keep that in mind.” Then she smiled sweetly and allowed Ned to usher her away.

“Damn, Red,” Brandon muttered under her breath after they left.

Lyanna laughed at him. “She was always too smart for you, Brandon. She just didn’t let herself see it for a long time.”

“You think so, little sister?”

“I know so. Just like I know what I said before is true. You don’t love her. Not like Ned does. But you’d fuck her again in a heartbeat if you thought you could get away with it.”

Now, he was angry again. “Jesus, Lya! Do you think I’d do something like that to Ned? He’s my brother for Christ’s sake.”

Lyanna was quiet for a moment with a very serious expression on her face, and Brandon was suddenly struck by the fact that not only didn’t she look fifteen any more; she looked even older than her twenty-two years. “No, Brandon. You’d never do anything intentionally to hurt Ned. No more than I would. But you wouldn’t be thinking about Ned. You’d only be thinking about yourself and what you want. Only later would you realize who got hurt.”

He started to argue with her, but found he couldn’t really.

She smiled at him a little sadly. “You don’t have to worry, though. Cat’s like Ned, not like us. She won’t ever hurt him, so you’re safe.”

It was only much later that Brandon realized she’d said _not like us_ rather than _not like you._

He barely saw Ned for the remaining days leading up to the wedding. The poor guy was working all the time in order to clear his schedule for the extended honeymoon he had planned for himself and Catelyn. He saw Cat a few more times at his father’s house going through the still growing garage sale collection as he referred to the wedding gifts. He understood now why the all crap was at his dad’s. Cat’s apartment was tiny, and even Hoster Tully’s place wasn’t as big Rickard Stark’s. Nowhere else could have housed this much junk. Poor Cat always seemed stressed. She’d taken a two month leave of absence from her job at a children’s rights non-profit, and Brandon thought it was a good thing. This wedding appeared to be a full time job. He wondered if the fact that neither the bride nor the groom had a mother made it harder on her and decided that it probably did.

Of course, he only thought about these things when he wasn’t with her. He’d discovered that Lyanna’s words to him carried a certain amount of truth. When he was around Cat, he found himself thinking more about the way her nipples would stand up whenever he kissed her neck, and the little sound she always made when he first took one of those nipples into his mouth. From there, his mind would leap to any number of things he’d like to do with her, and more than once he’d had to leave the room rather abruptly or risk her noticing the bulge in his pants. Lya was right. The more he was around Cat, the more he wanted to fuck her again. To make her his again. But he would never do it. Lya was wrong about that.

On the actual day of the wedding, he had two major responsibilities: stay sober enough to behave (ordered by Catelyn) and keep the best man, Robert Baratheon, sober enough to function (ordered by Ned). As the day wore on, both of those responsibilities became more tiresome, although he had to give Robert credit for taking the whole best man thing more seriously than anyone one might have expected. His father had given Ned a hard time about making Robert best man over either of his brothers, but Brandon understood. Ben, at eighteen, still seemed a kid to his older brothers, and while Brandon and Ned were certainly close in their own way, Brandon could hardly blame his brother for not wanting a best man who had fucked his bride more times than he had at this point. He’d been with Cat for nearly five years, and even if she hadn’t slept with him for almost the first two, she and Ned had only been together six months. No way his little brother had caught up yet.

 _I’ve got to stop thinking about fucking Cat,_ he told himself as he ordered another bourbon and coke. He’d been a good boy. It was halfway through the reception before he’d had his first alcoholic beverage, so what if he was on his third now. He turned his back to the dance floor, pretending not to see the hopeful wave from the big busted blonde bridesmaid he’d banged in his car after the rehearsal dinner last night and gratefully accepted his drink from the cheerful bartender.

After a moment, he turned back toward the dance floor and saw Cat being twirled around by yet another white haired old guy who was probably an ambassador from some foreign country. He knew all of his father’s business connections, so this senior citizen had to be one of Hoster Tully’s VIPs. Cat seemed to bear dancing with all these old geezers with good grace. Brandon laughed when he saw Ned sitting at the head table watching with a scowl on his face, though. _Cut in, you big moron,_ he thought. _Forget your two left feet and go get her. I would._ He wasn’t sure Ned had danced at all since the obligatory opening dance with his bride, but he had to admit the man had looked damned happy then.

Brandon had never seen his brother’s face as alive as it been tonight. Holy Trinity had been packed. Hoster Tully was a devout Catholic, and while Rickard Stark was known as a deeply principled and spiritual man, he wasn’t a member of any particular church, so there had never been any doubt that the wedding would take place in the historic D.C. church that old Hoster attended every week. The prospect of a lengthy, traditional Catholic wedding had been less than exciting to Brandon, but he had to admit the church had been beautiful. The fifteen bridesmaids all looked lovely, too, in their dresses of Cat’s favorite shade of blue. Even the dumpy little brunette that Ben had to escort in looked kind of pretty. Brandon had been lucky enough to walk with Lya who looked astonishingly beautiful in her blue dress with her hair all styled and actual makeup on her face. Robert Baratheon, standing at the front of the church by Ned, had looked like he actually wanted to ravish her in the nearest pew as she and Brandon walked down the long center aisle toward them, and Brandon resolved to keep an eye on the two of them after the ceremony. Once he and Lya took their places, there was only Lysa Tully left to walk down alone as maid of honor. She was undoubtedly a beautiful girl with hair the color of Catelyn’s, but she’d always struck Brandon as silly and a little annoying. She looked even better tonight than she usually did, as the blue that was so perfect for Cat suited her as well, but Brandon knew to stay away from Cat’s little sister unless he had a death wish.

Then the chords which alerted everyone to stand had played on the organ, and Brandon had forgotten everyone else in the church as Catelyn Tully started down the aisle on her father’s arm. He’d seen her face a hundred thousand times and thought he knew her every expression. He’d seen her happy, angry, sad, pensive, passionate; watched those blue eyes darken with fury, sparkle with laughter, and dilate with sexual desire. He’d known her to be beautiful in all those moments, but he had never seen her as beautiful as she’d been walking down that aisle. Her dress was exquisite and it clung to her figure perfectly as she moved. She’d worn her hair down and it had caught every light in the church. But it was her face that had captivated him. That beautiful, familiar face had worn an incredible expression of love, and joy, and excitement that he had never seen there before. For one incredible moment in time he had imagined that she was walking to join him there, that their engagement had never been broken and he’d never let her walk away. Then he’d seen her eyes more clearly. They never once looked his way. They never looked anywhere except at Ned. He’d felt a sense of loss then that took him by surprise, and he’d swallowed hard before following her gaze to his brother’s face.

If Catelyn’s face had been more beautiful than ever before, Ned’s face had been nothing short of transformed. There had been nothing frozen about his brother’s expression as he’d met his bride’s eyes, and Brandon had felt like an intruder watching something more intensely personal and deeply passionate than any encounter he’d ever had with any woman, including Cat herself. _She was never mine,_ he’d thought. _Not like that._ He’d been unable to tear his eyes away from the two of them for the remainder of the ceremony, and while he couldn’t tell you one word that had been said, he’d never forget the way they’d looked at each other the entire time, or the way that Cat’s breath had caught when the priest finally told his brother to kiss his bride and Ned had gently framed her face with his hands before putting his lips to hers. Brandon had followed Robert and Lysa back down that aisle with Lyanna on his arm, overwhelmed by such a strong mixture of jealousy and joy for his brother that he’d literally run out the door of the church to blink stupidly in the May sunshine while he tried to force his world back into focus.

With a start, Brandon realized his drink was empty again. Hadn’t he just gotten this one? He sighed heavily, attempting to pull his mind back from Holy Trinity, signaled the bartender, and scanned the dance floor once more. It looked like the band was preparing to play again which meant that Lyanna would have to give up the company of Rhaegar Targaryen. She had been sitting at a table by one corner of the stage in deep conversation with the singer since the DJ had started playing dance numbers to appeal to the masses. He’d considered going over to them as he watched his sister leaning into the man as if to catch his every whispered word, but Lyanna was an adult. If she wanted to spend her evening flirting with a married rock star, that was her business. While the band had been playing, she had danced almost exclusively with Robert Baratheon, moving her body in a manner that no doubt had Ned’s best bud running to douse himself with cold water as soon as they’d left the floor. He didn’t see Robert now which was probably a good thing as the man wouldn’t have liked the way the silver-blond haired singer touched Lya’s face before he got up and left her at the table.

Brandon looked for Cat and saw that she had returned to her seat beside Ned, and was now looking at her new husband with a thousand watt smile that made Brandon’s heart leap into his throat. Unexpectedly, Ned actually leaned over and kissed her soundly on the lips, and Brandon felt something twist in his stomach as he watched them.

“Thou shalt not covet thy brother’s wife,” came a mocking voice from beside him, and he looked up in shock to see that his sister had appeared at his side.

“Shut the fuck up, Lya,” he said, reaching for the new drink the bartender had put down in front of him.

She laughed. “You really have to stop staring at her like that, you know. You don’t want to turn into that little creep, Baelish.”

That shocked him. “Jesus, Lya! I’m not anything like . . .I mean, I don’t . . .Fuck. I don’t seriously look at her like he does, do I?” Maybe it was the alcohol that made him actually ask the question. In any event, his sister stopped laughing and looked at him almost pityingly, which he hated.

“No,” she said softly. “Petyr Baelish is a sick little bastard. You’re just . . .you. And no one here can read you like I can anyway. Well, except maybe Ned and Cat, and they aren’t exactly looking at us.”

He followed his sister’s gaze back up to the head table where the bride and groom were laughing together and never taking their eyes from each other. “No, they certainly aren’t.” He motioned to the seat beside him. “Whatcha drinkin‘, sis?” She held up an empty beer bottle, and he took it and waved it at the bartender. “Another one of these for the lady, please.”

She smiled and sat down with him.

“What did you do with Robert? And what’s up with you two, anyway?”

She rolled her eyes. “God, you’re worse than Ned. Nothing is up with us. We’ve gone out a few times.” She interrupted him before he could figure out how to ask. “No, I haven’t slept with him. He’d certainly be all for it!” She laughed. “He’s fun, Brandon. He actually likes to do things. He’ll go hiking or horseback riding. Every other guy around here is all dinners and shows and clubs. It gets boring after awhile. Robert’s just . . .well, he’s not one to just sit around. And I like that.”

“No, he’s one to just sleep around, though.”

She laughed again. “You think I don’t know that? And who are you to make comments about anyone’s sexcapades, anyway. I’m no saint, but compared to you or Robert, I’m as pure as the driven snow!”

Now, Brandon laughed, until he caught the look on her face as Rhaegar Targaryen started to sing again. It was a slow song, full of longing and lost chances, and as Brandon watched him sing, he had to admit the man’s voice was remarkable. He turned to tell Lyanna that, and was stunned to see tears falling down her cheeks as she watched and listened.

“He really does make you cry when he sings.”

“What?” She startled. “Oh. I know. I’m an idiot. It’s just . . .I told him this was my favorite song of his and he said he’d sing it for me and . . .” She shook her head. “Well, it’s just a really incredible song. He wrote it himself, and now that I’ve talked to him, I know that he really means what he’s singing. He really thinks about things, and he . . .well, I know you think I’m an idiot, so I’ll shut up now.”

He studied her face carefully. “You are not an idiot, Lya. Just, please. Be careful.”

She smiled at him. “I know he’s married, Brandon. I promise not to forget it.”

“Hey, you mentioned Baelish,” Brandon said, seeking to change the subject. “Is he still here?”

“Front and center,” she sighed, pointing to a table not far from the where the bridal party sat. Petyr Baelish sat there alone, staring up at Catelyn with undisguised hunger on his face. Lya snorted in disgust. “Look at that creeper. It’s a wonder he hasn’t started jerking off under the table, already.”

Brandon looked at him. “Maybe he has,” he said darkly. “I don’t see his hands.”

Lyanna laughed. “What the hell was Lysa thinking? Everyone in the world knows he’s an absolute stalker where Cat’s concerned, but her own sister invites him to her wedding?” She shook her head. “If he asks Cat to dance, Ned’ll knock him out.”

“Well, Neddy boy can hit hard when he wants to. I have reason to know.” He nodded back toward their brother’s table where Cat was now tipping a goblet up into Ned’s mouth. “And I think he’s had more than his usual one drink limit tonight, so old Petyr better mind his manners.”

Lyanna laughed again. “Speaking of drinks, how many is that for you, Brandon?”

“Two.” _Four. I think._

She gave him a look of frank disbelief. “Just remember your promise to Cat, okay? Even Robert’s not falling down drunk yet. Or at least he wasn’t when I last saw him.” She sighed then, looking back toward Ned and Catelyn. “Do you ever wonder what it feels like?” she asked softly. “To be them?”

“Ned and Cat?” he asked. He watched his brother run his hand over Catelyn’s bare arm and saw his grey eyes go smoky at the slight shiver she gave at his touch. “Horny,” he responded. “Those two definitely feel horny.”

Lya punched his arm hard. “What?” he said. “Look at them. They’d like nothing better than for all of us to disappear so they can go ahead and rip each other’s clothes off.”

“Well,” she said, grinning. “You do have a point.” Turning serious again, she continued, “But that’s not what I meant. They’re so sure, Brandon. They know. I’ve never been that sure of anything in my life. I wonder what it feels like.”

Brandon shook his head. “I don’t know, little sister. I honestly don’t know.” Suddenly, he couldn’t sit here with Lyanna and watch Ned and Catelyn for another moment. “I’ve gotta take a piss, Lya. You ought to go find your hard-drinking outdoorsman and dance some more.”

She smiled, but he noticed that she didn’t move from her seat as he walked away from her. Cat was actually leading Ned back onto the dance floor, and Dragonspawn had started another slow song. Brandon wasn’t sure if Lyanna was watching their brother or Rhaegar Targaryen.

He actually stopped at a bar on the other side of the ballroom for another drink. By the time he actually went to the men’s room and came back, the band was playing something very loud with a definite rock beat, and the decidedly young crowd on the dance floor was more jumping up and down like concert goers than dancing, while the bars in the room were surrounded by the older attendees. Feeling like an old man himself, Brandon started toward the closest bar only to stop when he spotted Lysa Tully standing by herself in a corner. She looked like she’d been crying.

 _Shit._ He really wanted a drink. He really did not want to get involved in the problems of Lysa Tully. Yet, he turned in her direction. “Hey, Little Red. Why the long face?”

She smiled just a bit as she looked up at him. “I haven’t been called that in years,” she said. “Nobody ever called me that except you.”

“Well,” he said, smiling at her. “Come to think of it, it doesn’t really suit you as well as it did at fifteen. Perhaps I should change it to . . .Red Hot.” He winked at her, thinking that Catelyn would pitch a fit if she heard him right now. _Red can just get over it. I’m not gonna bang her baby sister._

Lysa sniffled. “Red Faced, maybe. Why am I so stupid, Brandon?”

“You aren’t stupid, Lysa,” he told her. _If this is over Petyr fucking Baelish, you’re pretty damn stupid._

“She’s married!” she exclaimed, and it came out almost a whine. “She’s married now, and I thought he would have to get over it. He said he wanted to come with me. With ME! When he asked me if . . .” she broke off and bit her lip to keep from crying.

Brandon sighed. “You’re talking about your date, aren’t you?”

Lysa nodded.

“He asked you to bring him as your date? It was his idea?”

She nodded again.

“Jesus, Lysa.” _You are stupid._ He just managed not to say that last part out loud. “Come on, Little Red. I’ll buy you a drink.”

“They’re free,” she said, but she took his hand and let him lead her to a table anyway. He stopped a server and ordered up a bourbon and coke and a glass of white wine.

He realized the band had stopped playing again. Ned and Cat were still on the dance floor laughing together as the DJ said something into his mic. Then one of those terrible songs by the Village People started playing, and Ned shook his head rather violently and pulled a laughing Catelyn to the edge of the floor as others rushed out to sing along drunkenly and form their arms into the letters YMCA. He didn’t see Lyanna anywhere. He didn’t see Ben, either, and realized suddenly that he hadn’t seen Ben for a very long time.

“I love him,” Lysa said suddenly. “I’ve always loved him. Why can’t he see me?”

 _Because Cat exists,_ Brandon thought, watching her sparkling older sister twirl in circles around his resistant younger brother. _Not even Ned can resist her._ He watched as Cat coaxed a somewhat inebriated Ned back onto the dance floor during the second half of YMCA.

“He only sees Cat. Everybody only sees her.” Lysa’s voice was petulant.

Brandon turned to look at Lysa and realized that Catelyn’s younger sister was quite drunk. He’d have realized it sooner had he not been well on his way to drunk himself. Lysa Tully would hardly be baring her soul to him if she were sober.

“You’re a beautiful girl, Lysa,” he said honestly. It was true, after all. Lysa was easily one of the prettiest girls in the room, but compared to Catelyn, they all were invisible. _You managed to find an awful lot of them when Catelyn was yours,_ he thought bitterly.

“I’m not. I’m nothing.”

“Don’t say that. Catelyn’s gorgeous, that‘s true. She’s smart and sexy and special, and I guess it kind of sucks being compared to her all the time. But don’t sell yourself short. You’re all those things, too.” _You’re beautiful, anyway. I don’t really know anything else about you. I never cared enough to learn anything much about you or your brother, did I?_

She smiled at him. “Will you dance with me, Brandon?”

“Sure, but if your sister sees us, you’ve got to have my back. Tell her I’m not trying to get into your pants.”

“I’m wearing a dress,” she said suggestively. “You could do whatever you like, and I could still tell her that truthfully.”

Brandon sighed. “No go, Little Red. It’s not that you’re not tempting. It’s just that Cat . . .”

“It’s just Cat. It’s always Cat. You’re still as hung up on her as Petyr is!” With that, Lysa stood up and walked off angrily and a little unsteadily.

Brandon considered going after her, but then opted to sit still and finish his drink, cursing whatever impulse had moved him to try to be nice to her in the first place. _Poor Lysa._ He hoped she didn’t let Baelish fuck her tonight but feared that she would as drunk as she was. He remembered that long ago night when Catelyn was still his, when he’d beaten the shit out of a drunken Petyr Baelish at a party after he’d cornered Red and pushed her up against a wall, groping her and slobbering all over her and telling her he loved her. Later Catelyn had actually made him go to the little shit’s apartment to be certain he wasn’t dead. Far from dead, he’d been fucking Lysa Tully’s brains out while shouting Cat’s name. Lysa had been maybe eighteen or nineteen, poor kid. She’d begged him not to say anything to Catelyn, and he’d kept her secret. He wondered now if that had been such a good idea.

 _It isn’t my problem,_ he told himself. _She’s not eighteen anymore, anyway._ A slow song was now playing, and he looked up to see a number of couples swaying together on the dance floor. Ned, remarkably enough, was still out there, although what he and Catelyn were doing scarcely qualified as dancing. They had their arms wrapped around each other and they moved in a lazy circle, looking only at each other. Cat’s lips were moving, and he realized she was actually singing to his brother. Listening for a moment, Brandon recognized the song as a sappy thing by Train. He knew most of the words and watched Catelyn’s lips as she sang them.

_Forever could never be long enough for me to feel like I’ve had long enough with you._

“Jesus,” he muttered and finished his drink in one gulp. As the pair turned and Ned’s face came into view, he saw that his brother was also singing. _Ned can’t sing._

_You wear white and I’ll wear out the words I love you. And you’re beautiful._

Brandon swallowed. She was beautiful. The woman in Ned’s arms was absolutely stunning, and he’d just handed her to his brother without a fight. _Does he really make you feel like I did, Red?_

_Marry me. Today and every day._

He’d asked her that once. _Marry me._ He’d given her that perfect diamond ring and she’d cried, throwing her arms around his neck and saying “Yes, yes, yes!” She’d been so happy in that moment. And he’d been . . . _What?_ He thought of Lyanna’s words earlier. _They’re so sure. I wonder what it feels like._ Had he been sure? He and Cat had made love all night that night, and he’d been sure he wanted to keep doing that forever. Yet, he’d hooked up with that flight attendant when he’d gone to Miami to represent Stark Enterprises two weeks later.

“Brandon! Have you seen Lya?”

He looked up to see Robert Baratheon looking down at him and shook his head slowly. “Nope. Not for awhile. I thought maybe she sneaked off with you.”

Robert looked at him carefully. “You are drunk, my friend. Better not let Cat see you.”

“And you’re not?” Brandon asked in some surprise.

“Nope. I promised your brother I’d make it past the toast before I got started, and then I was dancing with Lya, and since then . . .well, I’ve been holding your little brother up while he pukes his guts out.”

Brandon’s eyes widened, and he looked again toward Ned and Cat. The song had ended, but they still stood there with their arms around each other. “Well, he must be drunk because he’s dancing and singing, but he doesn’t look sick.”

“Not Ned, you idiot. Ben.”

“Ben?” Brandon asked, as if just remembering he had another little brother. “Ben’s sick?”

“Ben’s stinking drunk. Apparently, no one asks for an ID at a Stark wedding reception if your last name is Stark,” Robert said. “He’s in one of the private parlors off that way. I don’t know his room number and neither does he, or I’d have taken the boy to bed already. I’m over the babysitting. I think I’m entitled to a drink by now. Or five or six drinks, maybe.”

“I’ll go get him.” Brandon stood up, swaying only slightly. “Where is he again?”

Robert grinned, apparently enjoying the sensation of not being the drunkest person at a party for a change. “That way,” he said. “Through that door Ned and Cat are walking out.”

Brandon saw his brother and Catelyn exit the ballroom with their arms still around each other. “Where are they going?” he asked.

“Probably to change. They aren’t staying here tonight, remember? Ned’s got them booked into a completely different hotel. He told me he wanted to get out of here by midnight, and it’s nearly eleven-thirty now.”

Brandon remembered that now. There was a limo waiting to whisk the newlyweds away while hopefully any paparazzi remained here at the party which would likely go on all night. He turned back to Robert. “You are officially off duty, Baratheon,” he said with a bow. “You have definitely gone above and beyond. Have a drink on me.”

As he started toward the door, Robert called after him. “Hey, Brandon!” When he turned around, Robert was grinning at him. “If you run into Ned and Cat back there, try not to look at her like you were looking at her when I walked up to you. Ned’ll punch you in the jaw again if he sees it.”

“Why the hell does everyone keep saying things like that?” He turned away again and decided to stop by the bar on his way to babysitting duty. Drink in hand, he went through the door Robert had pointed out and found himself in a short hallway with three doors on one side, two of which where open. He went for the closed door, thinking that Robert might have wanted to enclose Ben away from his father’s disapproving eyes.

However, when he opened the door, the first thing he saw was an exquisite wedding gown in a crumpled pile on the floor.

“Ned! We’re supposed to be changing clothes.” This statement was followed by a sharp intake of breath and a high pitched squeal.

“We are changing clothes. We’re just taking our time about it.” Ned’s voice sounded muffled.

Turning toward the voices, Brandon saw Catelyn, standing completely naked with her back to him, her perfect ass and long, lovely legs drawing his eyes. His brother was facing his direction, but too entirely intent on what he was doing to notice him. His voice had sounded muffled because his mouth was on one of Cat’s breasts. “God you are beautiful. I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you in the church.”

Ned was dropping to his knees now, moving his mouth lower on Cat’s body. She laughed. A low, breathy sound. “This is what church motivates you to do? I’ll have to remember to make sure you attend regularly.”

Brandon stood there momentarily, unable to move or tear his gaze away from them, but then he realized exactly what he was doing, and backed out of the room as silently as he could, feeling ashamed of himself. They never even knew he was there. As he shut the door, he heard Cat gasp and moan his brother’s name. Some twisted part of him wanted to stand there and listen, but the more rational part of him hurried away to the nearest open door.

Inside this room, passed out on a sofa, was Benjen. Brandon closed the door behind him and leaned against it panting. The uncomfortable tightness of his pants against his cock made him fully aware of how turned on he was, and he hated himself for it. _She isn’t mine._

He looked around the room and noted a small restroom located to one side. He walked in and turned the water on in the sink, realizing he still held his drink in one hand. He set it down and splashed his face with cold water. Then he downed the bourbon in several big gulps. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_

He heard a moan from behind him and saw his brother moving around on the sofa. He grabbed the trash can from beneath the sink before going to kneel down beside the couch. “Easy, Ben,” he said.

His younger brother blinked and opened his eyes. “Brandon?” he said, slurring the one word a remarkable amount.

“Yeah, little brother, it’s me. Not that you’ll remember in the morning.”

“I don’t feel good.”

Brandon laughed. “We’ve all been there, pal. Shit. I spent my first night puking up booze long before I was eighteen.”

“I wanna go home.”

“No can do, man. We’re at Ned’s wedding bash, remember? We’ve got a room upstairs, though. I’ll take you up if you can walk.”

“I can walk.” Ben sat up and promptly started retching. Brandon hurriedly put the trash can beneath him, but his brother had reached the dry heave stage at this point.

“No you can’t,” he laughed. “And I’m not sober enough to carry you on my own. Lie back down, and I’ll go get somebody to help me get you upstairs.”

Benjen didn’t answer him, but fell back down on his back on the sofa. Brandon turned him onto his side, and he didn’t wake up. He sat beside him for a few minutes making sure he was breathing easily and not retching any more. When Ben began to snore, he stood up to leave, wondering who he should get to help. Ordinarily, he’d get Ned, but that hardly seemed fair to do to his brother on his wedding night. Besides, Ned was otherwise occupied.

As he stepped out into the little hall and closed the door behind him, he actually saw his brother, now wearing a plain button down shirt and black pants in place of his tux, stepping back out into the ballroom. Cat wasn’t with him.

Brandon couldn’t resist looking into the little room where he’d found the two of them, and he saw her there, now wearing a simple blue dress and applying lipstick to her noticeably swollen lips.

“Your lips are a little puffy there, Red.”

She jumped. “Brandon! You scared me.” She put the lipstick into a little purse she held in her hand. “I’ve barely seen you tonight. Are you having a good time?”

“Not as good a time as you, apparently,” he said moving closer to her.

Now, she took a good look at him. “Brandon, you’re drunk.”

“So’s your husband.” He moved very close to her now, breathing in her scent, and the scent of sex that still hung about the room. “Does he perform well when he’s drunk, Red?” He put his hand out and caught a strand of her hair.

“Stop it,” she said. “You’re being an ass.”

He knew he should stop it. Somehow, that didn’t matter. “Are you sure about this, Cat?” he asked her, putting his other hand behind her back and pulling her toward him. “Are you sure you married the right brother?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” she said angrily, reaching up to move his arm away.

He caught her wrist in his hand and held it tightly. “Does he really make you feel like I did? Can you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me, Red?”

“Let go of me, Brandon.”

“I don’t want to let you go. I want to kiss all that lipstick off your lips and I want to hear you say my name like you used to.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, a little voice told him he was very drunk, but he chose to ignore it.

“Let go of me, damn you.” She spoke between clenched teeth, and Brandon could feel her rapid pulse in the wrist he held.

“Tell me, Cat, if I could go back and not fuck Barbrey Ryswell . . .if I could go back and not do all those stupid things . . .would you still want my brother . . .or would you want me?”

“You can’t go back. Please, Brandon, stop this.” Her eyes had started to water.

“You can’t answer, can you? Because you still want me. Just like I want you.”

She shook her head. “You don’t want me, Brandon,” she said softly. “If I hadn’t married your brother, you’d never have given me another thought.”

“I do want you,” he breathed.

She wrenched herself free from him then and moved several feet away. She stood there rubbing her wrist and looked at him sadly. “Okay, then. Maybe you do. But I don’t want you. I did once, but I don’t now.” She bit her lower lip. “You hurt me, Brandon. More than anyone has ever hurt me. But you can’t hurt me anymore because I don’t love you.”

“Those tears in your eyes say you lie, Red.”

She sighed and the tears began to escape her eyes and fall down her cheeks. “No,” she said softly. “I cry because you can hurt the man I do love, and I would rather die than see him hurt. Ned is your brother, Brandon, and he does love you. If you do a thousand shitty things to him, he’ll still love you. And because he loves you, you can hurt him. Because he loves me, you can use me to hurt him. Please don’t hurt him. Don’t do this.”

He felt like he’d been slapped. “I don’t want to hurt Ned,” he said softly.

“No,” she said. “But you will. You hurt the people you love, Brandon. You think life is a competition you need to win. That my loving Ned means you lost some stupid game.”

“I don’t think that way about you,” he said, feeling a bit sick to his stomach all of a sudden.

“Yes, you do. You just don’t know you do.” She shook her head. “Try not to drink any more, Brandon. You’ve had more than enough.”

As she started to walk past him to the door, he caught sight of her wrist and noticed it was starting to bruise. “Jesus, Cat, your wrist! God, I’m sorry. I’m just . . .I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. Just . . .let me go.”

“What are you going to tell Ned?”

She looked at him, those blue eyes sad, but resolute at the same time. “The truth. Ned and I don’t lie to each other, Brandon.” She smiled at him just a little then. “But you were right about my husband being drunk. He’ll likely not notice this little bruise tonight, and I’ll not spoil our wedding night by talking about you. Now, I have some farewells to say, so please get out of my way.”

He stood aside to let her pass him, and she left without another word. He still felt sick to his stomach and decided he needed some air. He hoped the metal door at the end of the hallway led outside, and the cool blast of night air that hit him when he opened it told him it did. He stepped outside into a small alley and breathed deeply. He was ashamed of himself. So much of what Catelyn had said to him was true. _Not all of it,_ said a small voice in his head. _There’s more to what you feel about her than wanting to take her from Ned._

He became aware of grunting sounds behind him and turned to see that some long haired blonde guy had a girl backed up against the wall, thrusting into her for all he was worth. _Jesus fucking Christ! Is everyone here having sex?_ The girl’s blue dress was pushed up around her waist and he could see that it was one of Catelyn’s bridesmaids. He couldn’t see the girl’s head and wondered idly if it was the blonde he’d done the night before. She had certainly been willing enough. Whoever it was, he was thoroughly irritated with the two of them. He didn’t want to go back inside, but he couldn’t very well just stand here and watch them fuck. He turned to walk down the alley.

The man suddenly exclaimed, “Oh god you feel so good!” and his voice sounded vaguely familiar. Brandon turned back to look in spite of himself, and realized with a jolt that the man was the singer from Dragonspawn--the married Rhaegar Targaryen.

He shook his head at the cheating son of a bitch, realizing even as he did so that he was a hypocrite. Just as he turned to go again, the girl climaxed with a cry, and Brandon’s blood ran cold at the sound of her voice. He looked again as the girl threw her head back, revealing to him her face, contorted with the pleasure of her orgasm. His sister’s face.

The Targaryen fucker came with a groan just as Brandon reached them. Grabbing the man’s shoulder, he pulled him off Lyanna and spun him around. “You goddamn son of a bitch!” he shouted, and shattered the man’s nose with his right fist. He dropped to the ground like a stone.

“Brandon, no!” Lyanna shouted at him as he bent down and hit the man again and again.

Lying there in the alley with his cock hanging out, a condom still dangling from it, the man wasn’t in any position to defend himself. Brandon didn’t care and kept on hitting him until Lya finally pulled him off. She was sobbing.

“Brandon, stop. Stop it. Just stop. Please.”

He did stop. In his drunken mind, he could hear Cat telling him the same thing. _Stop_ _it._ What was wrong with everybody tonight?

“He’s married, Lya,” he said somewhat stupidly.

“I know,” she said, tears still running down her face as she knelt to the man on the ground. “I know.”

“Get Jon,” Targaryen said to her. She nodded and ran to get whoever Jon was.

“You had no right,” Brandon spit at Targaryen after she had gone. “You son of a bitch.”

The man looked back at him without flinching. “No, I did not,” he said simply.

Lyanna was back quickly with the man called Jon who started to yell at Brandon when he saw Rhaegar Targaryen’s condition, but the singer told him to stop. Jon helped him into the building, and Brandon was left standing in the alley with his sister.

“I’m sorry, Brandon,” she said after a long while.

“You said you wouldn’t forget he was married,” he replied.

“I didn’t forget,” she said softly, looking at a spot on the ground. “I just chose not to care. Not tonight anyway.” She looked up at him. “Do you hate me?”

He sighed. “I could never hate you, Lya. And I’d be lying if I told you I never fucked a married woman. But . . .you’re better than this. You’re better than me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, damn it, you are! You have to be.”

She looked at him sadly. “You’re better than you think you are, too.”

They stood there silently for a long while. “Did you know Benjen is passed out in there?” she asked him after a bit.

“Yes. Did you know your dress is ripped?”

“Is it?” She looked down. “God damn it. I hope nobody saw me when I went after Jon.”

“Do you know what you’re doing here, Lya?” Brandon asked her. “Because this has disaster written all over it.”

“I know. That it’s a disaster, I mean. As for knowing what I’m doing . . .” She shrugged helplessly.

“Go in and sit with Ben,” he told her. “I’m going to make sure Ned and Cat get out of here before anybody finds out Rhaegar Targaryen got jumped in the alley.”

“Jumped in the alley?” she asked incredulously.

“Jumped in the alley,” he repeated firmly. “Lot of crime in D.C. little sister. It’s a real shame. Of course, if your singer’s friend is clever enough to get him out of here without anyone knowing he got the shit beat out of him, no one will have to be told anything.”

“Brandon . . .”

“Ned’s cleaned up my crap for years, Lya. I’ve paid enough attention to know a little bit about how it’s done. Go in with Ben and let me take care of things.” She nodded mutely then and went in.

Brandon turned and walked further down the alley to where it met the main street. He saw the black limo sitting there at the side entrance. Dad and Hoster Tully were just walking away back into the building, and Ned was helping Catelyn into the car. Brandon walked up to him.

“All ready to go, little brother?” he asked.

Ned looked up and smiled when he saw him. “More than ready,” he said. He looked Brandon up and down. “You get in some kind of fight?”

“Nah,” Brandon said. “I’m afraid our littlest brother has had too much to drink, and I’m not completely sober myself. I fell down in the alley back there trying to help him up after he puked.”

Ned shook his head. “Do I need to come back and help?”

“No way. Lya’s with him. You and Cat go on and get started on the dull married sex you’ll be having from now on.”

Ned laughed. “Don’t worry about us, Brandon.”

“I don’t worry about you, Ned,” he said seriously. “And I don’t want you to worry about me.”

Cat stuck her head out of the car. “Are you coming, Ned?”

“God, I hope not,” Brandon said with an exaggerated expression of shock. “Shouldn’t he do that with you rather than with me, Red?”

She rolled her eyes at him and held out her hand to Ned. “Come on, my love. I want to get you into bed.”

“Goodbye, Brandon,” Ned said without looking back at him. He nearly dove into the car, and Brandon heard Cat’s delighted laughter before the car door shut.

 _Goodbye, Red._ He watched the limo until it disappeared.

As he walked back to deal with his two youngest siblings, Lyanna’s teasing words from earlier in the night came back to him. _Thou shalt not covet thy brother’s wife._

Brandon sighed. _I’ll try, Ned. I promise I’ll try._


End file.
